Free Enduring Passions by David Wiltshire

Paddington & Bristol. Or the pickpockets , card sharps and the scams he had to look out for. Instead he said quickly, ‘And you, do you do anything?’
    As soon as it came out he realized it sounded patronizing.
    ‘Sorry, I mean….’
    She cut him off. ‘It’s all right and it’s true. I have been slow to do something with my life. I play the piano – there might be a future as an accompanist, I’ve got to look into it.’
    He was genuinely impressed. ‘That’s wonderful.’
    ‘Oh, I don’t know about that.’
    They chatted about music and his playing in dance bands, arriving to find the bus they wanted just about to pull out.
    ‘Come on.’
    He grabbed her hand and ran. The driver in his cabin beside the engine saw them and slowed right down.
    Tom gently pushed her on and followed, waving his thanks.
    She sat by a window and he lowered himself into the seat beside her.
    With a roar of the diesel engine and a crash of gears, they were off. Eventually, the conductor came bumping down the aisle with his ticket board.
    ‘Going to the air show?’
    ‘Yes.’
    When he’d finished giving them their tickets he said, ‘You wouldn’t get me in one of those things. If God had meant us to fly he would have given us wings.’
    With that he crashed his way to the next passengers, leaving Tom thinking he was right. But Fay chuckled and, mimicking his voice, said, ‘And if he’d meant us to float on water he’d have given us boats as feet.’
    Still chuckling she looked out of the window, at the passing Regency houses.
    ‘Cheltenham is very beautiful isn’t it?’
    He pretended to be looking as well, and said, ‘Yes.’
    In reality he was gazing at her reflection in the glass. Several moments passed before he suddenly realized that she was looking back at him, had been for some time. She turned and their eyes met – the closest they’d ever been.
    She smiled.
    Sheepishly, he smiled back.
    The bus cleared the outskirts and entered rolling countryside. In the distance were the hills of the Cotswold escarpment.
    The conductor rang the bell for the driver to stop at the next fare stage. Over half the bus passengers had already stood up.
    ‘Staverton – for the air show.’
    Tom got up, stood aside to let her go first down the aisle. When he reached the conductor, the man pulled a mournful face, ‘Good luck.’
    There were a lot of people walking up the lane and in the distance they could hear the sound of aero engines.
    Fay fairly skipped ahead.
    ‘Come along, I don’t want to miss a thing.’
    She held out her hand. Tom took it, marvelling at what was happening, when a massive roar sounded overhead and a dark shape right above made them duck instinctively. It was gone in a flash, leaving a fleeting impression of a leather helmeted and goggled figure, sitting in the cockpit of an upside down biplane, silk scarf flying in the slipstream.
    It flashed away, revolving upright as it did so and pulling up into a steep climb.
    ‘It’s a Gypsy Moth,’ shouted Fay, ‘just like Amy Johnson’s,’ and pulled on his arm to hurry.
    Tom was amazed that she should know what it was. At the entrance to the field was a gaily striped tent where tickets were being sold. Pennants were flying at its corners. Fay went first, already reaching into her handbag . ‘Here, let me do this.’
    Tom was not having it.
    ‘ No .’
    His voice came out louder than intended and the sudden dark look on her previously dazzling face made him frightened that it was the first thing that had gone wrong all day.
    He pleaded, ‘Please, it’s my place to.’
    Fay relented.
    ‘All right, but promise me I can treat you just once today, it’s only fair. It’s what I’m used to.’ It was a lie – a white lie. Jeremy and the likes would have laughed at the idea of a woman paying for anything. But that, in its way, was irritatingly condescending.
    Eager to make up, Tom nodded. ‘If you want.’
    ‘I do.’
    With the tickets finally purchased, they